We are best friends, but when we catch up it’s hard for me to get a word in to catch you up on my life. This wouldn’t be nearly as bad if 90% of your words weren’t negative about everyone and everything in your life. We all can say something negative about everyone we know, since no one is perfect, humans are flawed. But the ability to look past the flaws and see the remarkable is the true beauty of human interaction. And no matter what I have negative to say about my husband, family, and friends, it’s always made clear by me how wonderful I think you all really are. You say that you don’t really talk to any of your other friends. And you give all these reasons based on their annoying personality traits. But as time goes by, and it’s been 10 years, I am wondering if as you start sounding more and more superior if maybe it’s you, and not them. That hit my full force with something you said at me. Not to, but at. You, who I thought to be the 1 person who loved me fully and unconditionally for who I am, yet don’t in any way have to. (Even my husband, who does have some choice, is tied by a legal contract and 3 kids that make it harder for him to just walk away.) And now I’m left wondering: what exactly are you saying about me behind my back? Because I’m well aware there is plenty you could be. I spend a lot of time, all our time together really, listening to what you have to say about every single person in your life. No one seems to be immune. And none of what you say is positive. So I’m left doubting that I could possibly be the one exception. And I’m left wondering what it is you are saying about me. And I’m starting to think maybe I don’t want to hear about them anymore. I’m done sympathizing with you. Because, no really. I don’t think it’s them. I think it’s you. I think you are the reason a long list of friends stopped contacting you. And I think it’s because you have it in your head that you are so much better. But sweetie, you are just as flawed as the rest of us. And I guess after 10 years, and an apparent gleaming white BPD built pedestal, I’m finally realizing that.
And for the record: No 4-year-old goes to a parade to see politicians drive by begging for you to vote for them. They go for the candy their wives and friends pass out. And then get excited over the occasional fire truck and (apparently) marching bands. And no, I will not apologize for or be made to feel bad for encouraging the 4-year-old, who was glued to my side, to be more aggressive in seeking it out; when the 17 or 18 year old to our right was being all grabby grabby and not a damn candy giver missed him. I wasn’t telling my 4-year-old to push and shove. I was encouraging him to step up and ask not to be missed like a 4-year-old should and to out cute the near adult who walked away with 10 times what both my kids did combined. And no, I simply can’t just go to Krogers and buy him candy. Not like that anyways. Not when there are weeks we are counting quarters for one last loaf of bread or gallon of milk to be sure we have enough until my next payday. I may not be the most responsible person, but I’m not that irresponsible. Though maybe you think I am? Because I am the welfare recipient with 3 kids after all. As I’m starting to imagine everyone you know and talk to is well aware. But do you also tell them how hard I’m working to improve my situation in life so that I can do right by those 3 kids? Somehow, I doubt it. Because I don’t hear any of that stuff about them.